


Last Words

by Andiandyandee



Series: Parental Logince Punk AU [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Punk, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Car Accidents, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Established Relationship, I promise, Kid Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Kid Morality | Patton Sanders, Logan was a punk, M/M, Morally Neutral Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, My First Work in This Fandom, Older Cousin Deceit Sanders, Punk Deceit Sanders, Roman was not, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Teenager Deceit Sanders, baby punks, he doesn't die, oops this is going to be a series, parental logince
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23387482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andiandyandee/pseuds/Andiandyandee
Summary: A not so dark and stormy day, and a car crash
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Series: Parental Logince Punk AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688290
Comments: 16
Kudos: 186





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at simplysanders on Tumblr if you want.

Roman wanted so badly for it to be a dark and stormy evening, or for it to be a dramatic exit, on a steep mountainside, or for there to be thirteen crows, watching him with piqued interest.

  
Instead, it was a sunny Tuesday afternoon, less than a block from his home, and the only eyes on him were those of his family, playing in the yard. It was unusually warm for early spring, his windows were down, his music playing softly from his radio. The song was happy, something on the top 40 charts, probably. He had the right of way, so he didn’t even think to look.  
  
When metal started twisting, he refused to think about his children, who were now staring at the way the small red car crumpled on impact. He thought about his last words to his husband, which were ‘I’ll see you in twenty minutes. I love you’. He thought about his last words to his children. ‘Be good, I love you, clean your rooms.’ Those were good last words. If nothing else, it was semi-solid advice. His actual last words were “I’m leaving for home now, Sarah. I’ll see you tomorrow morning!” But those didn’t count. He didn’t want those to count. He thought of the last thing he said to his brother, at 4:30 AM just two weeks ago. ‘We’re going to be okay, Remus. Just you wait and see.’ A promise to reconcile, but at a later date. Why hadn’t he just told his stupid, impulsive brother he loved him?  
  


The car was in the air, for a second, then his ceiling had suddenly become a floor. He hung there, with his ears ringing and the blood coming from somewhere below his eyes filling them with red; burning them with iron. He hung there, breathing shallowly. It was warm, almost 70 degrees, and his husband was screaming for him. He could hear his children crying as if he was listening from underwater. He was drowning in nothing. He could smell electrical burning and gasoline. He unclicked his seat belt, forced the door to open, hit the ground like it was the only thing left in the world that mattered. It was grass. He thought about the last words he spoke to his family again. Could he change them now? If he made his last declaration here, in his neighbor’s yard, would it matter? Would they make a sound? His lungs were burning. 

He could hear someone talking to him. They told him he had to breathe; that he needed to squeeze their hand. He tried, desperately, to speak. He has so many things left to say. He got that promotion, he wanted to tell them. He wanted to ask for the peonies that were on the passenger seat just two minutes ago. They were for Logan, his favorites, an apology for the long nights he had spent in the office, trying desperately to prove he was important, that he was worthy of his position. Who was talking to him? They had blue eyes, almost white, and very light freckles across their nose. Was it Logan? Logan had freckles once he spent a few days in the sun, so it must be him. He squeezed his husband’s hand. There was a watery laugh that didn’t match the fear in the blue eyes.  
  
“I got.. I got the promotion. I’ll be able to work from home. I’ll be home more” Roman promised, in a voice that sounded like it had to be torn past his lips. “I love you, Lo.” Logan laughed again, sounding more like a sob, honestly.

“That’s wonderful news, Roman. We knew you could do it. We’re proud of you.” Logan glanced back at the toddlers who were still a hundred feet away. Their eyes were wide but they weren’t crying. They looked confused, mostly. “Can you tell me about it? Tell me about what you’ll have to do now.”

“I- I brought you flowers. An apology. For missing three dinners last week. I love you, Logan.” Roman wanted those to be his last words. His real last words. He could hear sirens, somewhere behind him.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Roman. Virgil, Patton, and I knew you would have rather been home.”  
  


“I love them. I love Virgil. I love Patton. I love you, Logan.”

“Stop saying it like a goodbye. I love you. Please don’t say it like goodbye.”

When the paramedics pulled him away, he was mumbling it like a mantra. 

“I love you, Virgil, I love you, Patton, I love you, Logan.“


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman is fine. This is literally just the family acting like children, because I love these boys.

When Roman woke in the hospital, he was sure he could tell it had been a long time. His hair, once very meticulously cut to ensure it wouldn’t hang further than his eyebrows, was now brushing his cheekbones. He hoped that was his hair. There was quiet talking somewhere in front of him. His bones felt stiff like he hadn’t moved in years.   
  


He was a big fan of dramatics, but he did really hope it hadn’t been years. There was a weight on his chest, pushing down and keeping his lungs from expanding. 

Wait. Was the weight... Moving? He opened his eyes and was blinded immediately by white light reflected on white walls. There was light ginger hair brushing his face. He was NOT ginger.

For that matter, he only knew one ginger. “Patton?” He croaked it out, wincing at the way his voice rattled. “Baby, I need you to move, okay? I can’t brea-” The weight was lifted suddenly, by someone in a black dress shirt. Roman breathed deeply, flinching at the sudden stab of pain from his side. He coughed a few times, then looked at the man who was holding his toddler. Blue eyes, almost white, stared at him with a look of both frustration and complete and utter relief. He was not wearing his glasses, his tie was nowhere to be seen, but it was his Logan. 

“If you ever do that again, I will kill you myself,” Logan said in a flat, monotone voice with an eyebrow cocked. “And then I will resuscitate you, so Virgil can kill you too.” Roman glanced around the room, finding his older son curled on the lap of someone in a black and green sweatshirt. Remus. 

His brother was telling Virgil a story, one the child had heard a thousand times, though it was obvious from the look on the child's face it was being told from a new perspective.    
  


“And the strong, scary knight told the scared dragon-”

“You will never be welcome here, foul beast. There is no room for someone like you in our lands” Roman finished the line, trying his best to put on the regal voice saved specifically for this story. It made sense that Remus was telling the story from the perspective of the dragon. Virgil looked up with wide eyes, almost exactly the same shade of white-blue as Logan’s. 

“You never told me the dragon was a momma dragon!” He cried, sticking out his lower lip. “Why did the knight have to kick her out?” Remus winked at his brother, a smirk on his face. 

“Yeah, Ro! Why DID the knight have to kick her out?” Roman’s eyes narrowed a bit.

“She was breaking the village's things! Perhaps the knight did not know the dragon was a mother. The knight was simply trying to protect his people.” Remus raised his eyebrows at that. 

“Perhaps the knight should have asked the dragon.”

“I have it on good authority that the dragon and the knight spoke very different languages.” 

“Yes, one of them spoke trash goblin, and the other spoke drama queen.” A voice from the doorway piped up. A teenager in a leather jacket with a bright yellow t-shirt that read something along the lines of “Punk’s not dead” was smirking at the family. Virgil immediately perked up at seeing the teen. 

“DeeDee! Look! Papa let me put PURPLE in my hair! Now Ima punk too!” Virgil smiled, showing off the single very light purple streak in his bangs. Logan chuckled at that.

“Oh,  _ very  _ intimidating, Virge. Remind me to grab you your present before I head home tomorrow. I got you something to match.” Virgil nodded and went back to curling up on his uncle’s lap. “And Pat, I have something for you, too,” Dee promised with a little wink. Roman did not like the sound of that. His nephew’s gifts always ended up with the boys getting dress-coded in their kindergarten class. “Uncle Roman, it’s good to see you awake. I was certainly not scared out of my godda..” He glanced at the toddlers, “..ng mind by your brother calling me screeching about a car accident.” 

“Why does he get to be UNCLE Roman but I don’t get to be Dad?” Remus whined from the chair.

“Because YOU are a nightmare dressed up as a functioning parent” Dee smirked at him.

“Roman is quite fine, Dee,” Logan said. “You did not have to drive twelve hours to come see him.” 

“Yes, I did, because I took the family brain cell with me to college, and Dad told me you all haven’t left this hospital room in  _ two days. _ ” Logan blushed at that. 

“I’ve been asleep for TWO DAYS?” Roman screeched. “Why didn’t you TELL ME?”

“You were too busy bickering with your brother about an imaginary knight’s actions,” Logan said flatly. “And besides, you were expected to be asleep until at least Saturday, so the fact that you are both awake and functioning properly-” Remus snorted at that. “Is indicative that you are completely fine, save for the broken rib and that, er, laceration, on your jawline.” Roman touched his jaw, feeling a large bandage across the left side of his face. His eyes widened, looking over to his brother who had a hand to the vertical scar on his face.

“Bad news, little brother, We have the same face again.”

***

  
  


Roman groaned as he got out of bed, glad to be finally leaving the sterility of the hospital room he had been in for the last four days. The doctors assured him it was only a precaution, and that they were worried about the healing of the cut on his face, but it still felt like he would wake up at any minute to be told this was the end for him. 

Logan was seated in one of the recliners across the room, typing on his laptop and looking unsurprisingly annoyed. Roman could hear Dee whispering outside the door, either on his phone or more likely- teaching his innocent tiny children how to rebel against the “man” which were often the lessons they kept in mind, and the ones that got them in trouble in school. The teen had decided to stick around for another week or so if only to keep the kids entertained while Roman was recovering.

“Dee, if you could refrain from encouraging my kindergarteners to form mosh pits, that would be wonderful.” The teenager barked a laugh, sticking his head into the door only slightly.

“One- I would never. Tiny bones have to be at least this tall” He gestured to only a few inches above Virgil’s head, which was the only part of the five-year-old Roman could see, and even then, only just a bit of his purple hair sticking out, “Two- if anything, your children are punker than I am, dearest Uncle.” Roman was immediately concerned. “Come on in, you two. Show your parents what your favorite cousin bought you.” 

“You’re our only cousin, DeeDee.” Virgil reminded him, walking in with a big smile. He was wearing a black and purple patch jacket, grey leggings, and the tiniest pair of combat boots Roman had ever seen. Patton, who was standing behind him, was in a light blue sweater, a tiny grey jean jacket, and holographic boots that were very similar in style to the ones Dee was wearing. Both children had eyeliner on, but Virgil’s was smudged under his eyes so much it looked like he was a raccoon. Roman broke into giggles immediately.

“Logan, Lo oh my goodness they look like you in high school. Oh my gosh, you corrupted our **_tiny baby children_ ** !” Logan raised an eyebrow, looking at his children standing there with big smiles and laughed a bit. 

“Good.” 

“Wait- Uncle Lo was a pu-”

“I love you guys, you know?” Roman cut Dee off, if only to stop that conversation in its tracks. None of them wanted to listen to Logan assure them that he was still very much a ‘punk’. “Like, a lot. All the time, not just when I think I’m going to die. You guys are my whole life.” He looked at Dee, and behind him, to Remus, who was standing there looking a little uncomfortable. “All of you, okay?” 

He figured, even if they weren’t his last words, they would be the words he made sure to say the most. That had to count for something. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I think I'm going to make this into a whole AU so feel free to request stories in the comments or hit me up on Tumblr at simplysanders!

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at simplysanders on Tumblr if you want. Ask me to tag anything. 
> 
> Comments kudos and requests are welcome.


End file.
